wind in dry grass
by hyacinthian
Summary: Six memories Whiskey doesn't remember.


**1. (the man in black)**

He's cold.

Black suits with pressed seams and the perfect pocket square, arms crossed over his chest, indifferent expression. Even his eyes - blue, and she _likes _blue, it's her favorite color - make her shiver. The room's not colder, but it _feels _different.

She blinks a few times, refuses to move closer.

"You're scaring her, Mr. Dominic."

"What do I do, wait for her to come to me?" His voice is sharp.

Topher then: "Just act human. I know that might be hard for you..."

And then he's moving closer; his eyes have changed. They're warmer somehow. Crinkled at the edges, little lines. "Hello, Whiskey." Soothing tones.

She gives a blank smile.

-

**2. (raggedy ann)**

All she wants is to be the best.

Staring at herself in the mirror, her face covered with violent marks (a sickly dull brown color) that interrupt the smooth plane of her face, she blinks, feels the vague prickle of tears at her eyes. Her fingertips brush against them in morbid curiosity - they are rough to the touch. Rough, but sensitive.

Adelle is silent.

Topher tries with an uneasy smile, "It'll be okay." His voice has that odd lilting quality to it, one that usually is accompanied by a shrugging of shoulders, though he doesn't do it now.

Her voice shakes. "How can I be my best?"

No one in the room says anything.

Except Alpha. Barely restrained, his cuts tended to, he sits and watches her. There is a smoothness to his tone, a soft pleasure in his voice when he says, simply, "You can't."

She cries.

-

**3. (wonderland)**

They do it in the last few minutes. It's an afterthought.

Topher's lying dead in a corner, mouth still crinkled with worry and guilt (he brought this upon them - he didn't invent it, just mass-produced it and he's not sure which is worse). It was a spy - another one, long after Mr. Dominic. The Attic is empty.

Adelle's lips are pursed in a characteristic displeasure. Claire can see that. She's trying so hard to be strong. But in the end, her strength will give, like the building, like the others. They can only hold out for so long. Adelle's eyes are a little large; her hands shake.

Claire says, "It's okay." (but how could it be? how?)

"We brought this upon ourselves." (the poached elephant in the room)

And she slides into the chair. It's soft, comfortable - the action is just as easy as she (doesn't) remembers. Adelle pops in the appropriate hardware; it clicks into place. "I'm sorry," she says.

There is a flashing of lights - a pulsing ache at her temples.

Claire is gone now.

Blinking, her eyes refocus on Boyd. "Did I fall asleep?"

(afterward, in a corner, adelle sobs - there is no privacy left.

when she is gone, no one pins her picture onto the rememberances wall. the dolls stay - she is gone.)

-

**4. (first kiss)**

It's quiet now.

Everyone else is sleeping. And she should be asleep, but there's _something_ - it's not quite bothering her, but she can't fall asleep. Doesn't want to fall asleep. That scares her more than anything (and it's nice here - she shouldn't be scared).

She slips into the treatment room. She likes treatments.

He isn't sleeping. There's a cup of something warm and he is typing. The minute she crosses the threshold, his eyes are beady, staring at her.

"Whiskey, what are you doing here?" He taps a few keys. "You're supposed to be sleeping." He continues tapping away, eyes focused on the screen - it sounds like little drums.

"It's nice in here."

"Yeah," he sniffs. "It's nice...everywhere." He turns back to the screen. "Really, you should be asleep."

"I--" She falters. What does she say now? Her mind is blank. "I wanted to see you."

He blinks, discomfited. "You don't _want _anything. You want what I tell you to want."

She brings her hands up to rub at her arms."I like spending time with you."

"You like _treatments_," he repeats, emphatic.

"Do you like me?"

He doesn't say anything. Just taps away at the computer like it'll unlock some great secret.

She interprets his silence. "Am I not my best?"

He groans. "You should really, _really _go back to sleep before the mean boss lady catches you here talking to me."

"I like it in here."

He throws his hands up. "You _like _it in here. Great! Just great."

She can sense he's upset; she frowns a little. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'll go to sleep now." She takes a few steps towards him, presses a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I like to sleep."

"Good night, Whiskey."

(he feels like he's somehow violated an innocent)

-

**5. (home sweet home)**

She knows what this will do to her.

She just couldn't imagine leaving. It was nice here, she had friends here. They're all gone now.

He said he'd be back for her. It's been years.

She watches them fall asleep, crumpling at the knees to lie on the floor. She breathes in, out. Slow, deep breaths.

She remembers falling asleep at treatments, remembers showers and trimming trees, tai chi with people she liked. Tango was nice.

She feels herself becoming tired, feels the familiar heaviness. Lying on the landing, she hums a melody; in her head, she recites the names of her friends who have gone.

(_charliedeltaechofoxtrotindiajulietnovembersierravictor_

-

it's a mantra for peace.)

She closes her eyes.

-

**6. (first impression)**

She stares down the piece of paper, the contract, hefty in its size.

The woman across from her smiles placidly, pours a cup of tea. "As you can see, we have state-of-the-art facilities and we're fully self-sustaining."

She doesn't know what to say. "Five years?"

Five years of her life just...gone. With no memory of what's happened. Five years - that's birth to kindergarten, longer than high school, longer than college, longer than she's worked at her last job. A lot could happen in five years. To just wake up and be five years older?

"It's a fresh start," the woman says.

That's a selling point, at least. To just have someone else be in control? She rubs at her eyes. She's tired. The bills are piling up, she's unhappy, and clearly, she's desperate. The Rossum Corporation hardly has a good reputation with her friends.

"What would happen to me? What would I do?"

"Well, that depends on your engagements. But everything remains discreet and safe."

She ends up signing the contract (the woman does not ask her to sign in blood, but it feels like a deal with the devil regardless.

-

her contract never ends.)


End file.
